You Won't Leave
by His Royal Pratness
Summary: John O'Callaghan x OC : "I trust you, John. You know that no matter what you do to hurt me, I will always trust you" I kissed his light brown hair, closing my eyes shut as I tried to savor this moment of affection.
1. Prologue

_The woman approached her supposedly lover, slapping him in the face. Tears of anguish fell gracefully down her tanned cheeks._

_"How could you do this to me?" through her frustrated tears of sorrow, she managed to choke out the questioning phrase—merely a whisper._

_"It was a fucking mistake, can't you just forgive me? I forgave you last time you slept with my fucking brother!" he growled, somewhat even more frustrated in appearance. An expression of guilt was apparent on his face, much different than her look of dismay and heartbreak._

_The damsel in distress thought back to the moment where she remembered being unfaithful to her lover. Her eyes closed shut, immediately remembering his soft, delicate fingers, tangled up in her silky, blonde locks. She remembered loving the feeling so much that she willingly slept with him. She regrets her actions to this day, but she knew why she agreed to taking up the role of an adulteress, betraying her lover. It wasn't a silly mistake, but it was definitely something she shouldn't have done._

_The pair of lovers moved beyond that, they were over the obstacles that threatened to snatch their relationship away, to steal all the love they have for each other. They overcame events that were never thought possible for most. After moving past all the shit they've been though, he should have known better than to bed with a woman that isn't herself. He cannot use her former betrayal as an excuse to wiggle his way out of it. The beautiful blonde woman shook her head, grimacing at feel of her salty tears on her bottom lip._

_"What you did was unforgivable" she whispered, feeling her hands shake ferociously._

_The tears that were formed in the blonde's eyes prevented her from having a clear view of him. She could not tell if he is grieving as much as she is. Through her tear-stained vision, the view of his guilty face is blurred out, unclear. She won't get to see his face properly for the last time since the only thoughts in her mind are the ones that blinded her of her usual common sense. She approached her already-packed suitcase by their shared bed, picking the baggage up almost too harshly._

_"You're leaving?" he asked sadly, eyeing the luggage in gesticulation._

_"I am not staying here with you" she sobbed, wiping at her face with her free hand._

_"What about Adelaide?"_

_"I can't do this" she shook her head, dragging her things past the tall, attractive man. His glistening hazel eyes formed tears of its own, pleading her to stay—in absolute desperation that can never be expressed aloud._

_He placed a hand on her shoulder, almost making the attempt to comfort her. They can raise this child together; he has faith in them as parents._

_She struggled away, pushing past her lover to get to the door. The handsome brunette followed his fiancé to the living room. He has to make her stay and he needs to think of something – fast._

_"How can you leave your child like that?" he started, raising his volume in hopes of intensifying his speech._

_The woman scowled at her lover, eyebrows furrowing in an unidentifiable expression. He couldn't tell if she was drowning in regrettable sorrow or reaching her boiling point of anger. Her mouth opened and he immediately knew that it was the latter one._

_"This is our child. The baby is related to you. She pulls a tie between me and you; I don't think I want to have anything to do with you. I just want to leave and never see you again, it hurts too much" she kept her voice calmed and leveled, to his surprise._

_Her sobs are louder now as she made her way to the front door. She stood by the mahogany material, glancing at her ex-lover one last time._

_"I don't ever want to see you again either. Adelaide deserves better than what you can give" he said honestly, looking down at his feet._

_"Very well then" the brunette man finally glanced up to see his fiancé walking out of his life._

* * *

Images flashed into my head severely before I woke up screaming. I got up from my bed, breathing in and out. This nightmare still lingered on in my head as I dug into my short-term memories for the images that haunted my slumber—merely several seconds ago. I remembered something dark, this feeling of abandonment, but the rest seems blurry to me. A few seconds into my contemplation, someone knocked on my door.

"Adelaide?" the voice of my dad calmed my composure at once.

"Uh dad?" I was breathing in and out slowly, still fazed from the cold feeling of my unconscious imagination.

"Do you need me to come in?" he asked, sounding worried as he does every night he catches me screaming in my nightmares.

"Dad, can you please come in? I'm scared" my voice trembled and I feel myself shaking at this point. The cold darkness forced a shudder out of me as I tried to push these thoughts out.

My dad turned the doorknob immediately and ran straight to me, pulling me into a tight hug. He sat me down on my bed and continued to hold me in his embrace. I press my face against his chest and allowed myself to cry uncontrollably. The darkness threatened to suck all the life out of me, all the happy things in my life.

"Honey, everything is going to be okay" he whispered in comfort, repeating his commonly used phrase—like he is well prepared to be reciting these lines all night.

Most of the time, I wish I was a normal teenager. The nightmares are the main obstacles that I have to face in life. I've been having these nightmares since I was five. From that point on, I would find myself waking up in fear and on the verge of tears every other day—not precisely, mind you. My biggest theory is that the lack of a mother figure is the cause of my recurring nightmares. I don't have a mother—which could possibly be the reason why the general theme of my nightmares revolves around the concept of abandonment.

Every time I ask my dad about my mom, he would just look away and pretend to ignore my question. When I ask him again, he says he doesn't want to talk about it. Then I would see the tears glistening in his light hazel eyes and feel my heart hurt from watching my dad's failure at holding himself together. I would drop the topic and fear for the next time I find the confidence to ask him again. This is the reason I know nothing of my mother.

"Baby, everything's okay now. If you need anything, just get me out of bed" my dad kissed my forehead, looking back at me several times while he walked out of my room in caution.

Sometimes I feel bad for my dad. For sixteen years, he has to deal with me all by himself—without the contribution of a woman. Honestly, I'm not the easiest person to deal with. Occasionally, I have problems confronting a person. I cannot hold a conversation to save my life, I push people away when I fail to face my own problems, I'm always scared or paranoid of my surroundings, and I sometimes have anger issues. My dad has to deal with all that.

After his departure from my room, I attempted to return to my slumber. Usually after nightmares, I could easily fall back to sleep—without interruptions of my conscience. I need to get some sleep for the sake of my own rear end in the following events of tomorrow. School is something to be taken seriously, and it should be approached with lively actions. Falling asleep during classes will not help.

Living this abnormal life never helps with anything.


	2. Performance

In the morning, I woke up, still tired from the nightmare last night. This is usually how my morning turns out after suffering from harsh nightmares the night before.

"Adie babe, are you awake?" my dad called from his room.

"Yeah dad" I replied in comparable volume.

"Go get ready, Uncle Stefan will drop you off to school today" he said.

"Okay" I attempted to leave my messy slump of a bed and access to my bathroom in order to begin my morning routines.

After completing my business in the bathroom—consisting of brushing my teeth, face washing, hair brushing, and make-up insertion—I entered my bed room to change into appropriate clothes for activities outside my household. When I tiredly dressed myself, I decided to put on some Amy Winehouse tunes in attempt to waking myself up. I made my way downstairs, simply dressed in a tank top and tight-fitting jeans.

Heading to the kitchen, I find Uncle Stefan waiting for me with breakfast on the table. Occasionally, on rare occasions, my father's twin brother, Stefan would show up to our kitchen during school mornings and wait for me with completed breakfast on the kitchen counter. After watching me eat breakfast, he would take me to school in his black colored land rover.

"Morning" I grumbled tiredly, taking a seat at the table.

"Morning to you too" he said cheerfully. I do not know how he would be so energized in the morning. If he actually drove all the way from his house to here, then he must have woken up half an hour upon to arriving. Meaning, he woke up earlier than me—I look like a zombie compared to his enlightened self.

"I had another nightmare" I noted, as a normal daily basis of an uncle and niece in conversation.

"Did your dad hear you?" he asked, leaving the kitchen counter with a plate of scrambled eggs in hand. He placed the breakfast food on the glass table and sat down across from me.

"He heard me scream

_again_" I sighed, ashamed of the childish actions that never fails to repeat itself.

"Everything is going to be okay" he mumbled the same lines my father repeated endlessly last night, considering the fact that great minds think alike and they are twins.

Shaking my head at my uncle, I thought about something that I might have forgotten. There is this nudging feeling in my gut that I forgot about something. Sighing tiredly, I explored deeply into my dysfunctional brain to extract a mind-made daily calendar—finally picking out what I had let slip of my mind.

"Oh shit" I dropped my hands on the table, cursing loudly in realization.

"What's up?" Uncle Stefan chuckled, eyeing me in amusement. He gestured for me to eat my eggs and I did as I was told.

In between bites of my scrambled eggs, I spoke.

"I forgot that today was my music class performance, this guest musician is visiting our school and scouting out for talents to join him on this big grand tour his band is having or whatever"

"Adelaide, do you really want a music career?" my uncle asked.

"Yeah, I think I do"

"Then you need to nail this performance" he said.

"I know" I mumbled.

Truth to be told, I haven't given much thought to this performance. I barely prepared for a song to perform for the grand musician guy and I am expected to be ready today. This is almost overwhelming for me, but I have been playing music my whole life—strumming my dad's old acoustic guitar and singing my favorite old classics. A performance without practice is not going to be that complicated. It might actually turn out better than the over-practiced work people usually do.

If I had a mother, she would be proud of me just like dad and Uncle Stefan. She would encourage me to move forward with my music career and blow the

_famous_ musician away with my talents. It would have been great if I had a mother.

"Stefan?" I started again, feeling casual enough to refer to my uncle by his first name.

He smiled at me, glancing at me expectantly.

I took a deep breath before opening my mouth to speak. Honestly, I never had the guts to ask anyone but my dad about my supposedly mother figure, mostly in fear of showing my vulnerability. Over the years, I failed to collect information about the mother that I've wanted all my life. I realized that the only other person I trust enough to ask is my uncle. I asked him when I was nine. He told me I was too young and I should wait when I'm older. Sixteen and still dying to know, I think I am older and more

_mature_ from my nine year old self.

"Can you tell me about my mom?" I asked him, crossing my fingers behind my back—completely disregarding my breakfast.

He sighed deeply.

"You have to get to school young lady" he took his car keys from the counter.

He is trying to avert attention from this subject.

"But will you promise to tell me about her when I get home?" I won't let this subject be disregarded.

A look of distress washed over his face as he sighed in defeat.

"I promise Adelaide, I promise" he said, "just don't tell your dad"

I only nodded along, stuffing the last of the scrambled eggs into my mouth. Uncle Stefan smirked at me as he watched me totally gulp the breakfast down monstrously.

When I finished my breakfast, we left the house and decided to head for the school. I followed Uncle Tate to his trusty land rover and entered the passenger's seat as I normally would on occasions like this.

He got in the driver's seat and stuck his car keys into the ignition. As he began pulling away from our driveway, he blasted music out loud from his car radio. Five minutes into the song, he grimaced in disappointment.

"What?" I asked, not sure whether to be curious or amused.

"It's just the music these days" he sighed, shaking his head.

"I know, it gets worse by the generation" I agreed.

"Correction, it gets worse by each passing year"

* * *

When I entered the school, my only two friends, Norah and Carly, greeted me as they left their waiting spot by the entrance.

"Are you feeling okay? Your music class performance is today, do you know that?" Norah asked.

"Something like that" I chuckled nervously.

"Do you have anything planned out?" Carly asked, suspicious.

"Nope, I'll just make it up as I go along" I shrugged at my resolution.

Norah sighed, slightly disappointed at my inserted effort for this significant project—a project that could possibly change my life.

"Do you really want to go on tour with the legendary punk rock band, The Maine?" Norah asked.

"Is that what the name of the dude's band o whatever?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

She tied her dark auburn hair in a high pony tail before scoffing at me.

"Funny how I know about your life than you do"

"I mean you should at least put more effort into your work" Carly contributed, totally cutting the climax of a playful conversation between Norah and me.

I do not need them lecturing me like they're my mother, even if I so desperately needed one. This lack of effort I've put in this week for this project will bite me back later, but a lecture from my friends isn't how I want to be bitten back.

"Oh well, we'll see what happens" I shrugged, "let's go to class then"

They quickly agreed and we walked into the Chemistry classroom, our first class of the day. Carly, Norah, and I quickly took our assigned seats in the back before returning to our conversation.

Truthfully, I only willingly talk to these two. If anyone else attempts to talk to me, I feel extremely awkward and feel the need to cut the interaction short. My social issues bother me sometimes but with Norah and Carly around, I don't mind most of the time.

"Gary's looking at you" Carly mumbled in my ear suddenly.

Gary was my boyfriend for a year, last year to be specific. He asked me out and I thought I'd stop being awkward and try something new. Eventually, I realized that we couldn't work out and broke off the relationship with him. The breakup happened in the beginning of this school year and apparently, he still believes that this separation is just a phase that will eventually lead to our reunion. Gary is a wonderful guy, really. I just feel that I am too much of a freak to be associated with someone so modest and normal.

"I can't stand knowing that. He needs to get over me" I whispered helplessly, trying to prevent myself from looking back at his general direction.

"Apparently he doesn't want to" she mumbled as the teacher walked in to start the class.

The day went by fast as classes are a blur, lunch went by with casual conversations between my friends and me, and they helped me overcome my nerves as the performance in front of this legendary rock star person approached.

I parted ways with my two friends before heading to the music classroom to retrieve my acoustic guitar. Mr. Truman mentioned to us in the previous class to meet in the auditorium. I almost let the fact slip my mind. If it weren't for the absence of many students in this classroom, I would have truly forgotten.

When I entered the auditorium, I was greeted by nervous chatter. People talked and gawked at a man onstage as I sat down on one of the empty seats. I took the time to examine the man, presumably the rock star guy. He is middle-aged, looking to be in his middle 30's. But I could tell that he has been in the music scene for a long period of time.

He is quite handsome and I can imagine how he could've looked like when he was hot in the music scene, back in the days. His brown and hazel speckled eyes caught me examining—because he turned to glance at me with a polite smile. I turned away quickly, as I am extremely horrible with human interaction.

Chatters subsided when Mr. Truman clapped his hands for silence. As the dead silence falls into this large performance room, Mr. Truman smiled at the musician on stage before speaking.

"Students, up stage before you is Mr. John O'Callaghan or as people used to remember him, the lead singer of The Maine" he announced as students cheered enthusiastically for the professional musician.

John smiled humbly at the throng of charismatic students as he scratched the back of his short, light brunette head. The cheering eventually faded, becoming a cue for Truman to continue on.

"The Maine has taken the music industry by storm in early 2007 and eventually called for a hiatus in 2019. Seven years later, this year, he has decided to return to his music lifestyle, our industry. For the band's first headlining tour in years, he will consider bringing some of you along to show off your talents to the world. Your goal today, students, is to perform a song of your choice and be at your best. Show Mr. O'Callaghan that you have potential to become a rising star, to accompany him on his comeback to the music industry"

There was a dramatic pause after that. No one spoke and then eventually the silence turned into something tensed, filled with thick anticipation and feelings of uncontrollable nervousness.

"Mr. O'Callaghan, is there anything you'd like to say to the students before we begin?" Mr. Truman asked John.

The musician smiled, nodding slightly as he glanced at the students with the biggest smile I've ever seen anyone muster.

"I just want you all to have fun and sing your heart out"

Then the performances began.

Jeremy was up first, singing a very old Queen tune,

_I Don't Want To Miss A Thing_. His voice is melodically impressive, consistently on pitch and hitting the notes with ease. After his performance, we applauded loudly for our classmate and John praised him for his guitar playing abilities and his jazz style voice. As my other classmates gathered on stage—one by one—to blow the rock star away with their performances, I grew extremely nervous. I still had no idea what song I would be playing for him.

When Mr. Truman called me up after Sasha's mind-blowing rendition of Jordan Spark's

_Tattoo_, my mind went point blank on song choices. I am slightly disappointed that the most important moment of my life is composed of careless procrastination and last minute arrangements. I am kind of ashamed that I've spent so less time preparing for it. This is not how I want the rest of my life to be, unplanned and half-assed.

John smiled at me politely and watched as I climbed up on stage—right past him, with my acoustic guitar strapped around me.

I decided to play one of the songs that I heard this morning while getting ready for school. That Amy Winehouse song I've learned to love so much after listening to my dad's stereo in my childhood years.

"I am going to play Amy Winehouse's

_Rehab_" I announced.

The musician nodded slightly and I began.

Strumming the opening chords, I got my jazzy grove on and sang the opening lines of the song. Instead of going Winehouse style on her song, I decided to stylize it the way I desired—my indie inspired spin on the tune. Even though I felt like I nailed the whole song, I knew John O'Callaghan noticed my lack of preparation for this piece. I feel him eyeing me with

_that_ look.

When the song ended, everyone clapped like any good crowd would and I turned to John for his comments. He smiled at me in amusement this time.

"Half-assed work, perhaps?"

I laughed awkwardly, nodding slightly. The class laughed and I feel myself flushing under their judging eyes. I feel a bit embarrassed that a professional musician called me out like that. Because of my stupidly functioning brain, I let the performance slip my mind and wreck my reputation up recklessly. I feel like the rest of my life is ruined.

However, John continued to speak.

"Adelaide, right?" I nodded, "your performance could be better but I still find it impressive that you could pull something like that out last minute"

"Thanks" I mumbled more to myself than the musician.

"Your music style has a bit of a blues mixed with indie. I am surprised that teenagers nowadays would appreciate indie or blues. It's been a while since people considered it _trendy_" he air quoted the last part.

I thanked him once again before walking off stage. With the rest of the given class time, we watched the rest of my classmates perform for John O'Callaghan. Only Jenna screwed up her piano part for an Alicia Key song, but besides that, each student matched up with perfection in their musical pieces—very well prepared at that.

By the time Hailey's last performance ended, all the students followed Mr. Truman out of the auditorium as did I. But before I actually left the room, I was interrupted.

"Adelaide?" John called out.

I turned around quickly, already flushing that someone is starting a conversation with me.

"Yeah?"

"May I speak to you for a minute?"


	3. Magic Box

I approached John in the auditorium. He sat down on one of the folding chairs, gesticulating for me to do the same. I took a seat side stage, right beside him. Sighing heavily, I gave him a look.

"Am I in trouble?" I chuckled nervously. I did give a

_professional_ music a

_half-assed_ performance, something he surely does not deserve.

"No you are not" he still smiled politely. I feel myself relax the tensed composure I previously had while walking in.

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked.

"Your mom" he says, eyeing me carefully now.

I almost took this as a joke. Maybe he didn't mean my actual mother. It could be the

_your mom_ thing people say when people ask questions. It's hard to tell since John looks so serious right now.

"You know my mom?" I decided to ask, hoping this guy won't let me down with his sense of humor, or lack of, might I add.

"Yes I did" he crossed his legs, biting his lips as he eyed me intensely.

"Wait, you need to explain. You can't just randomly approach a girl you hardly know, claiming you know her mother. There must be something you can explain to me. I don't understand" I sidetracked, thinking it impossible for some random musician to come in, accuse me of half-assing my performance, and then claim to know my mother. This is all too overwhelming. He needs to do a shit-ton of explaining.

John laughed, nodding in agreement as if he understood my confusion. Honestly, I have no idea if he is pretending to understand me and my circumstances or is he truly feeling me. I examined him carefully and watched as he studied my features. I self-consciously played with the light blonde strands of my hair, just for the sake of having something productive to do. He bit his lips and opened his mouth to speak as I could tell from glancing at him from the corner of my eyes.

"You didn't think that I would choose to visit Hartford, Connecticut just for the sake of a lucky draw, did you?" he questioned, smirking at me with a tint of amusement in his eyes.

I am still confused.

"Adelaide, of course I didn't show up to your school to scout for talents because honestly, no one in your class actually had the professional potential to embark on a tour with me, including yourself" he chuckled the last part before gazing at me with an unreadable expression.

"Then why are you here, Mr. O'Callaghan?" I asked, folding an arm across my chest.

The topic of my mother is being put on the line here. There is no awkward tension in me to repel myself from this conversation. The possibility of learning about my mother is just too exciting to bear. I just need to understand who this O'Callaghan guy is. He is a musician, indeed, but I have a feeling that he is something more.

"I need an excuse to get to you, for the sake of your mother anyways" he explained, reaching for something in his bag. I stared at his large brown bag curiously but he refused to pull his hand out with whatever item he was reaching for.

"Can you tell me about her?" I begged, suddenly letting my curiosity kill me.

John cleared his throat before opening his mouth to begin. He smiled at me reassuringly and then I realized that my hands are shaking again. My anxiety attack is not going to help anybody. Shaking my head, I stuffed both my hands in my jean pocket.

"Your mom is from Tempe, Arizona, the same place where I grew up" he said, his casual smile just lingering on his face expression.

A part of me seeped with excitement at the learning of my mother's origin. This guy seems like he knows what he is talking about. If I learn about my mother, then there might be a chance that I can find her—if she's still alive, that is. Or maybe I will finally understand why I grew up without a mother.

"Her name is Reese Arejay" he grinned at the enlightened expression on my face.

"Reese" I mumbled, just enjoying the feel of my mother's name through my lips.

John stared at me sincerely as he placed a hand on my shoulder. I don't know why he is getting excited or emotional over my learning of her name. Her relation with this man is still a mystery to me. I feel like I have to find out in order to trust him. It is unlike me to take a stranger's word for

_anything_.

"And you know her because…?"

He chuckled as if wondering why I hadn't asked that in the beginning. I raised an eyebrow at him and waited until he continued.

"We were friends. Very good friends at that" he said.

I didn't say anything, just giving him time to collect his thoughts and resume to the topic.

"She was twoe years older than me but we were good friends, nonetheless. We had each other's backs and it sometimes leaves people questioning our friendship. When I'm eight, she is already ten—but she still stuck around and attended to our friendship. I guess we were great friends from childhood and it stuck" he explained, smiling brightly at the memory.

I watched him curiously, almost excitedly that I'm finally encountering someone willing to tell me about my mother. For all my life, I've been secluded from the other part of me, the side involving my mother. No one told me anything, yanking me away from the knowledge instead of encouraging me to understand. This man sits before me, more than willing to explain anything I wanted him to explain about my mother. I don't know what today is supposed to be like, but I like it so far.

"Why did she leave us?" I asked the question I've wanted to ask my dad all my life.

He closed his mouth and bit his lips, as if contemplating carefully on his next selection of words. I am confused to why he is approaching this situation so cautiously. I don't understand why everyone seems so careful at the topic of my mother. I wonder if she is still alive, considering the fact that everyone makes this situation look so sacred and untouchable.

Finally, John spoke.

"I can't tell you that. Unless you promise me something"

"Anything" I blurted without thinking or contemplation.

He scowled at me.

"No, you have to know what you're doing. This is serious. You've never done this in your life before. Most people haven't"

I shook my head, clearly lost from his change of attitude. He now looked stern and serious for business. Truthfully, I am intimidated by how honest he is taking this situation.

"You have to promise me to be careful, what I'm asking you to do is really risky and it can impact on other people's lives. They might get hurt if you take actions too quickly. I think it is really dangerous and I've considered asking this of you. Will you do it?" he asked, eyeing me hopefully. His serious expression remained but his brown eyes softened as he studied my look of uncertainty.

I thought long and hard about what he just said. Nothing in the world could be that dangerous, right? All John asks of me is to leave my place here in Connecticut and look for my mother. He knows the location and he will bring me there, hence the risky part he mentioned.

"I'd do anything to learn more about my mother. I've been secluded for too long" I admitted.

He nodded in agreement as he decided to change the topic. Instead of resuming the conversation about discovering my mother, he transitioned into the topic of my childhood growth. At first I was a bit hesitant to talk to him about my personal issues but he knew my mother, and if I have a connection to her through him then I can trust him with my life problems. He seems to be interested in what I have to say, clasping his hands together in anticipation.

When I spoke, he listened to everything I uttered out in discomfort—he asked questions or made comments about them. I told him about the dreams, my insecurities, and my trust issues. He eyed me sadly at the learning of my issues but he still listened and spoke when needed to.

We were still talking when we were interrupted.

"Adie, I've been looking all over for you. Why are you here? Mrs. Horgan sent me to look for you, let's go to class" I didn't even need to look over to the speaker to recognize the familiar ramblings of a love-struck boy. I knew it was my ex-boyfriend—since I knew I could recognize his voice from anywhere.

Then I realized that I am missing my last period English class with Mrs. Horgan. A wave of guilt suddenly washed over me and I quickly shoved the thoughts away as the ideology of finding my mother returned.

"Gary, I got some business to take care of" I said calmly, smiling at him politely.

He shook his head, glancing at John with a look of insecurity on his face.

"No, you're coming with me" he walked over to the stage, attempting to grip at my arm. I shuffled away from him quickly.

"Gary don't" I warned, feeling bad that I have to keep pushing him away like this. He looked at me sadly in return.

"Adelaide, why are you being like this?"

"Being like what?" I asked dumbly, glancing at John from the corner of my eyes. He waited patiently as I conversed with my ex-boyfriend.

"Since we broke up, you've been ignoring me" he said sadly.

"Gary, can we not talk about this now?" I begged. I don't mind going over this issue later on—even if I've been avoiding it for a few months. I just want him to leave me alone so I can resume to my conversation with John.

"Oh so you don't want to talk about our past relationship with me in front of this young man here?" he referred to John, a sudden look of

_jealousy_ on his face.

"I'm 39 kid" John said casually, almost shrugging nonchalantly.

"Oh but isn't that like rape?" Gary said disrespectfully, to which I find surprising. Gary is always respectful to others under any circumstances. Apparently, I don't know him as much as I used to.

"Gary, can you get out of here? We have things to take care of. My whole future is being planned out right now. Oh wait, I don't remember you ever caring about my musical career. I'd like you to leave so I can talk about something that matters to me" I told him harshly, even though I didn't mean it that way. This is the result of my desperation to resume to my plans with John. Desperate times calls for desperate measures, as they all say.

Gary shot me one last look of sorrow before turning to leave the auditorium. He just left without a word.

"I'm sorry" I apologized, not sure to John or Gary.

"He's your ex?" John asked.

"Yeah"

"Anyways, I want to talk about the promise you just made me" he moved on, sliding his chair in front of me so now that he is facing me naturally.

"Alright" I agreed.

"So do you believe in time traveling?" he asked.

"I've seen stupid movies about that but no" I responded honestly, shrugging as I thought of how idiotic the idea of time traveling is.

"Well this is going to be harder than I thought" he muttered to himself, barely inaudible.

"I can believe it if you want me to. I'll go and do whatever I can to find out about my mother" I added quickly.

Nodding, he reached into his big brown bag and managed to pull out a box with its matching keys. The box is wood carven, designs of some weird mystical symbol around the surface. I stared at it in pure confusion as I waited, anticipating for his explanation.

"This is a box" he announced enthusiastically. I rolled my eyes.

"No shit" I mumbled. He seems unfazed by my lack of enthusiasm in contrast to his at his highly-anticipated announcement.

"This is a special one" he handed the box and key to me, giving me that serious look again.

I nodded as I played around with the key in my hand. I twirled it around as I touched the outline of the wooden box with my fingers. The material feels nice against my skin, although I had no idea what this box has to do with anything.

"Do not open it until you think the time is right" he warned.

"When is the right time?" I asked dumbly, finally looking away from the box.

"Whenever you're ready to go on a journey to meet your mother" he answered.

"So now?" I asked excitedly.

"Nope, when you get home, think about it" he said, picking up his brown bag before getting up from the chair. He turned to leave.

"Go back to class now"


	4. Attics To Eden

After English class, I met up with Carly outside. Norah did not join us because she is with her boyfriend, I assume. Carly and I started chattering while walking over to my locker. We laughed along to random jokes and I carelessly threw my stack of books inside. I told Carly about my failed performance, only to get an "I told you so" speech out of her. She blabbered on about how I should've prepared but I found myself drowning her out as we walked to the courtyard outside.

"The weather is nice today" Carly commented, sun glazed on her light brown hair.

She furrowed her eyebrows when she caught sight of someone across the area. At the realization, she elbowed me in caution.

"What?" I rolled my eyes, turning to glance at her.

She gestured to something and I followed her implications—finding myself in the presence of Gary, once again. He looked at me with that same expression of hopelessness and sadness as he approached us. Carly awkwardly shuffled away, leaving me with no side-support.

"Do you need a ride?" he asked, forcing a small smile to form on his lips.

He does have a handsome smile, which was probably why I was so drawn to him in the first place. His gorgeous brown hair—similar shade to my dad's—used to be my favorite color since I've been so accustomed to running my fingers through them. I can't bring myself to look into his electric blue eyes because I know that they will bring back the memories that will force me on my knees and take him back. Looking into them used to weaken my knees and bring out the vulnerable side of me.

I don't want to feel weak anymore. All my life, I've always had someone support me and watch over me like I was fragile. God, I know I am—but I hate feeling delicate as glass. For once in my life, I want to feel powerful—like I have control over my life and everything around me. As far as my predictions go, it all seems very unlikely.

Then I refocused on Gary, trying to think of a polite way to brush him off. When he asks me for rides, it translates to pleading for a talking session. If he pleads to talk, it is implied that I will have to listen to him as he tries to wiggle his way back into a relationship. I want none of that happening—he should move on. There is nothing wrong with him for me to end our dating experience. I know he thinks about what he did wrong and honestly, there is none. My issues with my recurring nightmares, the trust issues, and all the wild things going on in my life resulted in my decision to resume to living the single life. So far, I like the taste of independence.

"I'm riding with Carly, but thanks for the offer, Gary" I said sincerely, finally mustering the energy to look up at him square in the eyes. His electric blue orbs are identical to mine but his carried this pleading loneliness that I cannot help but feel responsible for. Just glancing at his eyes makes me feel this cold feeling of regret, as if I'm reconsidering my desire to stay single—for the sake of making him happy. But I know that this is not what I want.

Gary smiled but I can tell that it didn't reach his sad-looking eyes. The pair of eyes screamed at me, accusing me of wrecking him up—responsible for his restless attempts to fulfill his feeling of loneliness. I know that my encounters with him make me feel guilt, because every part of his being finds no trouble accusing me of everything I never remembered myself doing.

Before he turned to leave, however, John—the musician who promised me the fortune of discovering my mother—approached us, taking hold of my upper arms delicately. He pulled me aside just as Gary responded from acknowledging the musician's presence. Their last encounter was not pretty for neither of us, I do not want a second _incident_ of that. Carly blinked a few times, probably confused to why this older man pulled me aside.

"I don't trust you with this stranger" Gary was the first to protest as he stepped forward, closer to the pair of us. His accusing gaze at John O'Callaghan scares me significantly. This look in his icy blue eyes is foreign to me. I was always used to them being breezy and gentle with me. His change of attitude forced me to shudder—I averted my gaze from him in a rush.

John rolled his eyes, probably growing impatient with his constant interruption. I see that his whole body tensed up as if awkwardly helpless to being put under this situation. Gary's implication of his intentions towards me is something neither of us feels comfortable with—far from the truth.

"Compared to him, you're the stranger Gary. I don't think I know you anymore" I stared at him, almost with sympathy. Gary shot me a look of disbelief—the blueprint copy of what I am truly feeling inside. I don't why I would speak to him like this. I never imagined myself speaking to him this way. His expression of hurt kills me, reminding me of all the rejection I've put him through.

I feel this sudden, unexplainable urge to push him away. It just surprises me what measures I'd actually take for him to stop his intervention of my life.

He looked at me with his hopeless look, the one that brings me on guilt trips, before taking his leave – as I originally had wished. By the time he left my sight, the sympathy and guilt finally sank in. I stared at his previous spot, almost dazed and unresponsive.

"Your boyfriend's such a pain in the ass" John mumbled, inaudibly.

I sighed, biting my lips intensely in attempt to prevent myself from crying right here and now. Carly still kept her distance from me, flashing me an encouraging smile. Only she and Norah truly understand my feelings when it comes to Gary.

"Since we broke up, he's been like this"

"You're a beautiful woman, it's hard for anyone to let you go" he said.

I guess that's a compliment I still fail to take. My issue with human interaction is still eating me alive to this day.

"Thanks" I muttered self-consciously.

"Your mother's beauty" he commented, "definitely inherited"

I stared at him, unable to bring my lips to move. It is so awkward standing here and not knowing how to respond to a person in conversation. My lips urge me to move and utter out words, but my mind falls blank—so unsure of what words to express my true feelings. Sometimes, most of the time, I can't even identify my own true feelings. It is so hard not understanding myself and how I want to express the things going on in my head.

He opened his mouth to speak, probably noticed my discomfort to his comment. I feel my whole composure relax when he started talking.

"Slade cannot know of our meeting, you do realize that right?" he asked, almost in a hushed whisper. John muttered out my father's name in caution, as if the world will erupt if Carly can hear from her distance. I feel myself grow even more confused to John's relations with my parents and what he wants me to do with the box. His explanations are not enough to satisfy my needs but there's no point asking now. Carly is waiting for me and it will leave people suspicious if they caught us deep in conversation.

"Sure, I won't tell a soul" I disregarded my urge to question him, mostly because I fail to bring myself to explain.

"I have to get going" he said, shooting me a warning glance.

I gave him a curt nod as he walked off away from me. After a few steps, he turned back quickly. His serious eyes bore into mine as if trying to get me to realize secrets with unspoken words.

"Remember, use the box when the time is right. It will lead you to answers you have been looking for all your life" he warned, pointing his index finger at me.

"Bye" I waved him off, not wanting to be questioned by Carly when he leaves.

He took off without another word and for that, I am relieved. However, Carly grasped onto my wrist, shooting me a harsh look of confusion. She will ask questions and I have to make up something—pretend like my life is so perfect without a mother.

"You know I'm going to ask you about him" she pointed to the direction John retreated.

I feigned casualty as I shrugged nonchalantly at my interrogating friend. She raised her eyebrow and flashed this expression of disbelief.

"He likes talking and critiquing my music, what can I say?"

It is a total lie. John doesn't give a rat's ass about my aspiring music career. He has one thing in mind, whatever his true intentions are for it, and it is to help me uncover the truth that's been tucked and hidden away from me all these years. It is also something I do not feel comfortable talking to people about.

"He is quite attractive" Carly commented and I immediately feel myself relax at her drop of topic.

I stared at her, still unsure of what to say about the musician's appeal. She smiled at me while shaking her head foolishly.

"Let's get going, shall we?" she gestured toward the direction of her silver colored Volvo.

"We shall"

* * *

After a few hours of being home, I managed to sloppily complete my homework, finish my assigned chores of cleaning up my room, placed John's wooden box on the table—after examining it for long minutes, and have my share of fun on the internet. A few hours later are exactly when I hear the sound of the garage door, signifying my father's return from work. The garage door sounded again—closing from the previous action of opening.

I took no time to run down the stairs and greet my father. He walked through the backdoor just as I hopped off the last step on the staircase. I greeted him with a hug and he smiled at me, visibly exhausted from all the management crap he has to encounter during this day.

"Hey dad" I finally said as we released from our embrace.

"Hello Adelaide how was school today?" he asked.

"Really good"

I think I actually meant what I said. John's appearance did improve my day. His encounter with me gave me hope that I will actually grasp onto my mysterious past.

"How was your music class performance today? Stefan told me about it" my dad asked, without missing a beat. His tired green eyes flickered brightly in interest as he placed his long gray coat on the coat rack by the door.

"It's good" I didn't tell him about how I completely screwed over my chance with the performance. Truth to be told, my skills on stage has nothing to do with the rock star's appearance at our school. John is only looking for _me_ after all.

I informed Mr. O'Callaghan that I will not mention our encounter to my dad. With the chance of meeting my mother laid on the line, I do not intend on tattling it to him.

"I'm glad" he beamed at me and walked past me to place his black briefcase on the kitchen counter.

Even in his forties, my dad is a gorgeous man. He has the gorgeous hazel eyes—the ones that I do not inherit from him, sadly. I bet they pierce through women magnificently during eye contact. Then his handsome facial features—the dark brown eyebrows that sometimes remind me of caterpillars, his pointy, skinny nose fit for a male model, and thin lips that would have looked kissable to women his age. Sometimes his pretty face of handsomeness leaves me wondering if he was a chick magnet when he was younger. I highly doubt that he wasn't.

I can imagine that my mother was quickly attracted to him during first encounter.

"Hey, dad…?" I started, gulping nervously as I fiddled with my fingers.

"Adie?"

"Were you from Arizona?" I asked, almost choking on my own spit as I said this. My heart beats irregularly against my chest and I feel my face heating up, nervous from anticipation. I am just dying to see what I can get out of my dad during this encounter.

"Of course I was. I still am?" he laughs, as if I just asked him the most obvious question in the world.

"Okay, was mom from Arizona?" he bit his lips and looked away.

"She's from Arizona" he answered, "Tempe"

I find it quite surprising that he seems willing to answer the question—the answer that I already knew. He already proved himself willing to dive into this topic. I will have to see what I can get out of this.

"Was she beautiful?" I whispered, so afraid of asking the wrong question—being rejected by him.

"Yes she was. You look just like her, beautiful—the baby blue eyes you both share, almost identical" he looked really uncomfortable at the talking of this topic but I appreciate him for trying to look casual.

"So how did you guys meet?" I pushed a little further, hoping my streak of luck today won't wash out.

My dad groaned loudly, looking beyond distressed.

"Adelaide, is this really the right time to be talking about this?" I feel my stomach churn at the realization that my luck has run out.

Sighing, I decided to be truthful with him.

"Dad, I've always wanted to know about my own mother. Can't you just tell me a little about her? I just want the general idea" I feel myself grow desperate, my pleading words intensified by the end of my statement.

He studied me carefully with a serious look of contemplation. His hazel eyes watered immediately but I pretended not to notice. I am so close to making him crack; I can't let myself turn my back on this topic—even though seeing my dad upset hurts. After a long stare down between the two of us, he finally gave in.

"Okay fine. I guess it's about time we talk about this" he said.

"Tell me" I demanded, almost in an annoying whiny voice.

"So I was seventeen and your mom was sixteen. I was stuck in Phoenix for the summer vacation while everyone was going somewhere else for vacation. One day, I was playing soccer at the beach with some of my friends. I kicked a ball so far, resulting in my forced efforts to retrieve the ball. I complained to my friends but I went to get it anyways. Your mother picked up the ball and kicked the it to me with her barefoot. She was tanning with her cousin to whom she visited for the summer" he smiled as he reminisced on his old memories.

I didn't speak, didn't dare to. This story is as far as the history of my mother got, and I feel that today is definitely a lucky day for me. With my new knowledge of my parents ' first encounter, I feel so accomplished—like I made progress to finding more about how I was made to exist in this world.

"We started a summer romance and we eventually went to the same college in LA, both renting an apartment together. End of story" he cut the story short, glancing at me, eyes begging me not to push it.

"This is the best love story I've ever heard" I cooed, considering asking him to reveal more.

"No it's not"

"What happened?" I whispered, again, biting my lips to prevent myself from crying. This conversation is getting so personal and I feel this sad aura between me and my father.

He gulped and looked at me seriously.

"I did something bad" was all he said.

I didn't ask him any further because he looked like he was about to cry. The sight of his verging tears is something I cannot handle today. I am so exhausted from all the seemingly impossible events that erupted to overwhelm me. Besides, I feel that I retrieved enough information for today.

"Okay, I'll be upstairs" I excused myself. He just nodded as I climbed up the stairs hurriedly.

When I got to my room, I noticed the wooden box on my table. I wonder what significance it holds to my life. My best guess would be that it once belonged to my mother. Inside could be her most previous possessions. I just have this gutting feeling inside of me that suggests it. Fishing the keys out in my pocket, I decided to find out.

I walked up to my attic with the box and key—I didn't want my dad to walk in on me gawking at items that might have had value to him when he was with my mom. Closing the door quietly behind me, I sat down on the dusty floor. This is the key to finding out about the identity of my mother, and I have to let myself know of what might be in store for me.

Finally mustering up the courage to unveil the secret, I unlocked the box with the key. It opened—something purple was inside, glaring at me like a light to my face. Somehow, I felt the urge to touch it.

But when I did, everything around me blanked out.


	5. The New World

When I opened my eyes, I found myself in a coffee shop. I see people going on about their everyday lives—people seated at the surrounding tables, sipping their coffee drinks. A crowd gathered up somewhere in the back and I hear an acoustic strum of the guitar. A performance is taking place in the back. I decided not to worry about it right now. When I turned to my other side, I noticed a cute blonde guy at the counter. He grinned at me as I walked over to him.

"How may I help you?" he asked.

"Do you know the date?" I scratched the back of my head.

This place looks very unfamiliar to me. In Hartford, there was only one coffee shop near my town and it looked nothing like this. I remember being in an attic with the wooden box. Something glowed and pulled me into a stream of light. Then I wind up here.

"Today is the 26th of June" the grin never disappeared from his face as he answered my stupid question.

I gulped as I decided to display my stupidity and cluelessness.

"What year is it?" I stuttered, cursing myself for lacking skills of communication.

"Are you okay?" his blue eyes scanned down my body, furrowing his eyebrows as if checking for an injury or something.

Truth is, I feel more stupid than anything. I have issues interacting with people and here I am, blabbering off, clueless about something I do not know.

"I'm just a little lost here" I murmured.

He smirked.

"It's 2009, kitten"

_2009?_ I shook my head in disbelief, almost wanting to slap myself awake. It is impossible that the wooden box brought me back in time. I remember John speaking of time traveling and scowled at my sharing of my view on it. He was desperate for me to understand it, yet I expressed how stupid it was in movies. I did not know that this box was going to bring me to year 2009—seventeen years ago from where I had been living.

I did not want to believe the atmosphere right now because the idea of time traveling is impossible. However, everything feels so real—including the blonde guy's gaze on me. I feel my actual self-consciousness kick in. That is how I witness the reality of this setting.

"Where is this place?" I asked the attractive blonde guy at the counter.

"California, Los Angeles to be exact" he replied naturally.

"Why?"

A look of amusement washed over his face.

"You tell me"

"Thanks anyways" I disregarded the confusion clouding inside my head. I decided to move on and find out more about this place. The crowd formed in the back looks appealing to me—maybe I should check it out.

I excused myself from the cashier guy, earning a polite grin from him in return as I dodged tables to reach the crowd. The crowd mostly consists of screaming girls. I rolled my eyes but I was curious to see what the commotion was about. Pushing my way through the crowd, I manage to make it to the near-front. It is easy to shove people out of the way in a coffee shop. They didn't stand too close together like they would at a regular concert-show.

I stood on my toes to see who was up on the stage. When my eyes landed on the man I stage, I gasped.

His bangs barely covered his eyes—it was the first thing I noticed. It bothers me so much that I desperately wish to take a pin and clip his hair together. However, his beautiful light brown locks still mesmerize me. The color is much lighter than the shade of my father and Gary's hair—but even more attractive than the darker hair complexion.

I didn't know he was so handsome and amazingly beautiful at such a young age. Maybe I had a feeling that he might be attractive, but this is not what I was expecting. The reality in this 2009 time period exceeded my expectations of John O'Callaghan. Back in 2026, John had shorter hair and it wasn't styled in fashion. It was much different than what I am witnessing now.

His brownish-hazel eyes looked so warm and welcoming as he strummed the light colored acoustic guitar on his lap. He belted out the melodies to his tune and I continued to stare up at him, admiring his actual talent. John O'Callaghan did imply that I wasn't really a musician with potential to make it big. Just watching him play his tune, I knew why. He made his music sound good while I only make mine to get by.

John played a few more songs before the set ended. He got offstage with his guitar held delicately in hand. The girls around me screeched excitedly at the musician, grabbing at his shirt or anything in relations to his body parts. He let some girls pull him into embraces, smiling politely at them—similar to the ones he shot me in my school auditorium.

I feel rather uncomfortable in the midst of struggling girls, so I decided to return to the counter and question the boy more. But when I arrived, he gestured toward _the_ wooden box on top of the counter. My eyes glanced at it in recognition and he picked it up for me to take.

"I knew it belonged to you. I found it on the floor sometime after you went off" he explained.

I nodded, thanking him awkwardly as I normally would to strangers. He smiled at me before turning to his customer in line. I decided against bothering him as I made leave from the coffee shop. As I closed the door behind me, another hand on the other side pulled it open. I moved aside to watch John walk out of the door. He brushed past me and I decided best to question him.

To be honest, I am dreading this encounter with him. I already have issues confronting people, let alone speak nonsense to a guy who possibly has no idea what the hell I'm talking about. John might be aware of the wooden box scenario, he might not. If it weren't for my desperateness to nourish this feeling of confusion, I would have watched John walk away.

"Wait, I have your box!" I called out, chasing after him with the box clutched tightly by my hand.

The figure of John O'Callaghan turned at the sound of my voice. He smiled at me politely before looking down at the box in my hands. His eyebrows rose and he looked up at me in confusion. That expression on his face brought on a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"Dude, don't tell me you don't know" he shook his head.

I just know that I can't give up yet.

"Remember? In 2026, you approached me in my school and you told me you were friends with my mom. Then you gave me a box and I opened it in my attic and I ended up here. Do you remember now?" I found myself rambling to him hopelessly. I flailed my arms around on the verge of tears. I've never felt so lost and confused in my life.

I am hoping to god that he will come to his senses. Being stuck inside the past alone, without a clue of my purpose here will screw me over. He needs to be aware because I don't know how the box works with the past-present-future crap.

"I'm sorry? 2026? Sounds interesting though" he chuckled.

Shit, looks like I'm here on my own.

"Damn it, never mind. I think I'm on a mental breakdown" I clutched onto my head, cursing myself of whatever issue I am having right now.

As I was about to walk away with the box, he pulled me back to him.

"I was just kidding, of course I do remember. Adelaide, come here" he pulled me back into the coffee shop.

The blonde cashier guy eyed us, nodding slightly. John waved before dragging me off to a seat in the back, secluded from the majority of the human inhabitants in here.

I stared at him expectantly as he smiled at me with his young features. He is now so close to me, seated across from me. I don't think I feel too comfortable about it.

He opened his mouth and began explaining.

"This is a very important setting for your parents' life. I chose this location for you to start this journey to help regain the life that should've been yours. This journey will consist of you reviving the relationship between your parents. But don't worry, I'm going to stick around to help you out" he explained, noticing the apparent confusion on my face.

I opened my mouth to ask a question but he cut me off by standing up from his seat, as if he was in a rush. He fished out his jean pocket for a cell phone and nearly tossed it at me. I snatched the device on the table, utterly lost at this interaction.

"Here's a cell phone. My number is in it so whenever you need me, holler at me. I have an apartment here in Cali. You can live with me until we get this issue fixed up. I'll give you money to buy clothes or whatever the hell you need" he rambled on, moving his hands ferociously as gestures to his speech.

My mouth opened again but he held his index finger up to interrupt me again.

"You go do your thing. I have other things to take care of. When you need to go home or anything just call me" then he saluted his farewell and stormed out of the shop—oh and he brought the magic box with him too.

I stared after him helplessly. This is so awkward. I'm sitting here in the back of a coffee shop with no clue of what to do with the given time. John shoved his explanations in my head and then took off without thoroughly explaining his reasons. The only alternative I have left is prolonging my stay in this coffee shop. I decided to bother the cashier guy again.

When I got to the front, the guy still welcomed me cheerfully.

"Buying anything?"

"What do you recommend for first comers?" I asked, glancing up at the menu above his head.

He opened his mouth to speak but something else caught my attention. The blonde guy noticed my gaze and widened his eyes in alarm. A woman just walked in from behind me, making a beeline to the closest seat by the door. I stared at her as she wiped at her face and dropped her head on the table, just below her two arms.

"Hey, can you go make sure she's alright?" the blonde guy asked, eyeing me hopefully.

I agreed after he claimed to be friends with her. So I walked over to her, sitting down on the seat across from her. The woman's beautiful silky blonde hair covered her features like curtains. Her whole body shook as she continued to sob against the table. I decided to speak up.

"Hey, are you okay?" I tapped on her shoulder and she looked up at me.

My eyes grew wide and hers did a little. We stared at each other for a while before she turned away quickly. She looks like me, sharing most of my features. The most obvious is the silky blonde hair—almost the same shade of color. Her eyes baby blue, just like my dad had described it, just like how it looked like when I stare in the mirror, is exactly like mine. Her skin is tanner than mine, which is the only contrast between the two of us.

A jolt of excitement overwhelmed me when I realized that I am face-to-face with my mother, Reese Arejay.

"I just have the usual women issues" she sniffed, wiping at her makeup stained eyes.

Desperate as ever to interact with her, I decided to overcome my awkwardness toward people and speak to her.

"You can talk to me" I comforted.

"I don't think you'd like to hear about my stupid life story" she rubbed her eyes.

Her beautiful blonde bangs almost covered her eyes, makeup smudged from her tear-stained face. Today has got to be the worst day for her to put heavy eyeliner on. She looked so broken and fragile that I would do anything to help her. I need to comfort her like a mother would to a daughter. Then maybe she would realize how motherly love feels like, and that might teach her a lesson—show her what I've been lacking for sixteen years.

"I'd love to hear your story" I reassured.

She gulped before blurting out in her creaky voice.

"I—I just found out that I'm pregnant"


	6. Unfamiliar Familiarity

I didn't know what to do but to physically support her, both my arms wrapped around her skinny frame. She sobbed against my shirt material, dampening it. I couldn't say that I minded, but there's nothing else I can do about my wet shirt—my only one in _this_ world.

"My boyfriend is going to leave me" she mustered out in between sobs, her voice barely a staccato.

When she mentioned _boyfriend_, I thought about dad. All the memories of his fatherly, caring nature suddenly come flooding over me. I almost smiled at the thought of him, thinking of all the possibilities of meeting him.

"No he won't" I murmured, stroking her thin blonde locks.

"He said he's not ready for a child yet. If he finds out, he's going to leave me"

"Your boyfriend won't leave you if he really loves you" I assured.

"I'm afraid to tell him" she excused, looking up at me with her sad blue eyes.

"You have to. As far as I know about relationships, honesty is what keeps two people together" I said. She continued to shake her head as she proceeded to get up from her seat.

I held out a finger, almost desperate for her to stick around. She can't leave me here. I need to do something.

"Look, I'll help you out if you need me to"

She stopped her shifting and attempts to leave me in the coffee shop to really stare at me. Her blue eyes bore into mine—studying me, looking for any form of lies or reasons to not trust me. I know she is still a bit uncertain at this point. After all, I'm just a stranger forced to approach her by the hot blonde working at the counter.

Finally, she squeaked.

"You would?"

"Invite your boyfriend over. We can have a nice little sit-down chat. This location is the perfect place to start. I will stick around and make sure everything turns out fine. I'm a stranger to you now but I have a feeling that we're going to get along pretty well. I can sense that" I rambled on, moving my hands furiously as I talked.

Relief washed over her face as she muttered out her sign of appreciation. She grabbed her phone from her front jean pocket and glanced at the screen. Wiping at her tears one final time, she tapped onto her touch screen device. Then she pressed it against her ears and waited.

The thoughts running through my head now feels unattainable. I want to focus on just _one_ thing, but everything is so scattered in my brain. I just don't know what to think or feel as I sensed that I will be confronted by a _younger_ version of my father soon. This is something I've never even thought of envisioning. No one gets the experience to meet the younger, naïve rendition of their parents, therefore, leaving me as helpless as ever. No one ever expressed how to deal with your parents after time traveling back to the past.

I didn't know what to expect as Reese started talking.

"Slade?" she sniffed accidently, biting her lips to prevent anymore slips.

I hear a deeper voice respond from the end of the phone line and my heart raced rapidly against my chest. The voice, my father's voice, is close. He is closer than I realized. He is going to approach me and he won't have a clue of my identity. That is my assumption—so unless anybody tells me otherwise, I will stand strong beside my belief.

"I'm okay; I just need you to drop by the coffee shop. I'll be there waiting for you. We need to talk"

She listened to my father speak before hanging up the touch-screen phone. I shifted my seat uncomfortably, letting anxiety overwhelm me. Then I realized that I'm not supposed to act excited upon to meeting _Slade_. I am to act natural and helpful, like the person I made myself out to be in front of my mother.

"So" she started, "first things first, what's your name?"

I see that she is in a completely better mood now that she is assured of assistance from me. Her expression seems brighter as her eyes lit up, almost in excitement. I found myself smiling back at her due to the blissful feeling inside of me, watching my own mother smile for the first time ever.

"Oh I'm Adelaide Mor—" I blanked out, almost guilty that I nearly let my cover slip. She raised an eyebrow at me and I cleared my throat.

"Adelaide Morris Callaghan" I blurted out, almost wanting to shake my head at what I had myself come up with. Somehow, the ridiculous sounding names were the first thing that popped into my head. I tend to be an idiot sometimes, I know. "Adie is fine too" I added.

Her eyes widened in excitement, clasping her hands together. Her grin widened and her previous sorrow is forgotten.

"Adelaide is my favorite city in Australia. I've always wanted to travel there. I think it is a beautiful name and I think it is wonderful that someone would name their child after the city" she said.

I wanted to shake my head really badly. She has no clue that the creation of the beautiful name is possibly her doing. If she loved Adelaide, Australia so bad, then what would stop her from naming her first child after it? I almost wanted to laugh at how clueless she seems, almost complimenting my parents for giving me such a _beautiful_ name.

"I'm Reese, nothing more and nothing less. People call me Reese and I don't expect people to call or refer to me as anything else" she said casually, holding a hand out for me to shake.

After I properly shook the hand of my mother, the hot blonde guy from the counter took a seat at the table. He looked over at Reese and smiled. She greeted him quietly with a wave before turning back to me.

"Thank you Adelaide, you are a great person"

I looked up at the blonde guy and he gave me the same expression of gratitude. He glanced at Reese again before turning toward the door.

"My shift ended" he stated.

"About time" I mumbled, noticing how many encounters I've made with him in the past hour or so. It was all because he worked at the counter.

He shot me his look of amusement, the one so familiar to me by now, and smirked.

"You have to admit that without me, you wouldn't know what century we are in" he retaliated playfully.

Reese opened her mouth to say something but crossed when the door of the coffee shop opened. Her expression changed completely to one of fear when she looked at me. The blonde guy followed her gaze to see Slade, my father, approaching us. He took this as his cue to leave.

"Well, mom is expecting me home soon so I should get going" he excused pathetically, getting up from his seat.

Reese and I gestured our farewell as I took the time to study the man who entered the coffee shop. My eyes almost widened at the sight of a man, looking so much alike my father and Uncle Stefan, walking towards us.

His hair covered his eyes, so he swept it to the side, as I assumed. The beautiful brown locks that I've learned to appreciate so much of my father figure is almost lighter than I remembered. Instead of the neatly combed formation I last witnessed, it looked messy, all over the place—like he purposely forgot to tend to it in the morning. Somehow, the look made him a bit more attractive along with his already gorgeous green eyes and pale face. This is the young-adult version of my father.

"Reese" he uttered out as he pushed me aside and pulled her into his embrace.

I rolled my eyes at the contact my own father just made to me. I do have issues with human confrontations but when my dad shoves me aside for a girl, I will not keep quiet to my awkward little self.

"Good to see you too" I muttered quietly, but of course, he caught my comment as he released his girlfriend.

He raised his dark caterpillar eyebrows and glanced at me expectantly. I almost feel my knees shake at the unfamiliarity and strange look from him. My father would never look at me like that, ever. It all feels foreign to me.


	7. Asshole Father

"And who the hell are you?" he asked, almost snidely—like an asshole, I must admit.

"I—I—" I stuttered pathetically, fearing him more than anything else at the moment.

I don't feel like I am talking to my father anymore. My whole body is reacting to his presence like it would to a stranger. I don't want to feel like this, it is not what I expected. My body is supposed to feel warm, fuzzy, and complete that the family of three is present—standing together for the first time ever. But to me, he is just a stranger and vice versa.

"Don't be such a dick, Slade" Reese laughed, playfully shoving her boyfriend. He glanced at her, smirking gorgeously in return.

I still hung onto Reese's words, unable to forget about it. Did my mother just use the word _dick_ in my presence? This is so awkward for me, I don't even know if I belong here in this coffee shop, in this _time period_.

It leaves me wondering if she would still use such language as she ages.

"Fine, I'll be nice" he gave in, holding his hands up, very similar to the way Uncle Stefan does when I bring him to the edge of surrender.

I remember the similar, more playful nature of my father's twin brother—despite the fact that he is a few minutes older, supposedly more mature. Back in the future, as corny as this sounds, Uncle Stefan always makes me feel warm and comfortable, like a kid's favorite relative would. I fear that I would feel this unfamiliar reaction when I bring myself to his presence.

"For once" my mother muttered.

My father laughed as he turned to me.

"I'm Slade Morgan" he held out his hand for me to shake.

Surprised and taken aback, I stared at his offered hand unresponsive.

I would love to shake my father's hand any day, but some feeling inside me made me insecure, therefore, too shy to take action. How could my dad scare me as a young man? I want to slap myself for being so drawn back from him. I want to destroy the emotions in me, preventing me from being myself around him.

"Hello? Aren't you going to shake my hand? Don't leave me hanging" he waved his hands in front of my face, looking to be extremely impatient.

This is not the attitude I expected out of a father figure.

Shaking my head, I responded.

"I'm Adelaide"

"Okay? And you are here because…?"

"Slade!" Reese slapped his upper arms in warning.

He glanced at her innocently while she shot him a look of warning.

"Don't be rude" I heard her hiss to him.

"I'm not" he said defensively.

Then I decided to change the subject, the purpose of Slade's presence here. I cleared my throat and the two stopped bickering—paying me their undivided attention.

"Reese, don't you have something to tell _him_?" I asked, coughing as I gestured to her boyfriend with my eyes.

Her expression fell as she faced the man of her dreams. His playful, jackass manner collapsed at the look of distress on her face. He glared at me for a second before proceeding to wrap his arms around her. I did not like that.

A glare from my father hurts.

"It's important" Reese whispered, pressing her forehead against his.

His face softened, helping her sit down on her previous seat. Shooting me a look, he walked over to the seat across from her, leaving me standing beside them like an idiot.

"You should leave" he said bitterly, probably upset for making his dear love upset.

I've never felt more unwanted in my life as tears threatened to fall from my face. Even though younger, he doesn't want me around. It hurts to know that the only person I hold closest to my heart is the one who refuse to even be in my presence. I turned away just when I finally let a tear slip down my cheek.

"No Slade, if I'm going to tell you anything, I need Adie. She's here to make sure everything's fine"

I licked the tear drop that fell into my mouth and quickly erased all traces of my verging sorrow. They have no clue of my identity, they aren't married yet, they don't have a first child, and they surely won't believe that I time traveled to fix their relationship up. I should get over the unnecessary sadness and pretend like these people are my friends, not parents.

"Fine, Adelaide, get back here" he called for me, quite rudely, might I add.

Huffing, I turned from my attempted departure and returned to my standing spot beside the table. Slade held a hand out on the table and Reese gladly accepted it. He smiled at her with so much love in his eyes that I almost wanted to cry _again_. His thumb stroked the back of her hand, running them delicately against her smooth tanned skin. She bit her lips and glanced at him cautiously.

Then her gaze fell on me. She looked uncertain, confused, and lost—just like my outlook towards life. Her lips quivered as her gnawing teeth left the spot. She is going to cry again, I know she will. But she needs to know that everything will be fine.

"You can do it" I mouthed to her in which she nodded.

Slade turned to look at me and I awkwardly looked away. I feel more comfortable around Reese, which is opposite beyond my expectations. But I get a feeling that my expectations suck by now.

I wonder if the pregnant thing is the reason why they broke up. But I really doubt that. If it was, then mom would be the one to take care of me instead of dad. As far as I know, daddy loved me, and he still does back in the _real_ world. While handling me, he didn't show any signs of regret—I was always his number one priority. I knew somewhere inside my heart that he never minded my existence—in fact he embraced it.

The news of their incoming baby would only make him happier. If only Reese knew that. Because she didn't, she is nearly in tears as she opened her mouth. I wanted so badly to tell her that dad would never leave her because of this reason—but I can't do anything to comfort her at this moment, only to be there for her and smile at her.

"You can tell me anything Reese, you should know that by now" Slade whispered to her, passionately.

"I know but I'm really scared, I need you so much right now. I just hope that you'll stay here with me after I tell you" she started crying again.

I wonder if it is in her nature to cry over stress or her new status as a pregnant woman forces her to cry so much in general. I haven't experienced the feeling of being pregnant and I really don't want to, so I wouldn't know. I refocused my attention back to the couple.

"Reese, I'll be here for you anytime. My heart is with you forever and always. Just tell me what's wrong" Slade said to her with so much love, I could tell that he really loves her.

I find it hard to believe that they didn't end up together and hopelessly in love. What went wrong exactly? That is something I need to ask John about later.

"Please don't leave me" Reese panicked, pulling her hand away from her lover's. She fiddled with both her hands, looking at me again.

I gave her a reassuring smile because I could only do so much to encourage her to go on with it. At this moment, I feel so helpless, so unable to assist her in her time of need. There is nothing I could say, hence my interaction issues. Plus, this important news between the couple should come out bluntly and honestly, without needing assistance.

"Reese, I won't ever leave you, I promise" he reassured her, pulling her hands away from each other.

"I'm..." Reese looked at me fearfully.

I think I have the power to make her utter out the news to him. There's something about me that ties the bond between Slade and Reese. I have no idea where that idea came from but I suddenly have hope in myself. I realized that I did not need to say anything to make Reese feel better. All I have to do is be there because my presence is the only thing motivating her to spill right now. The blood connection between the three of us creates this link—a feeling of protection someone would feel with their family. I gave Reese the protection she needed from all her instincts, forcing her to hide the news from her boyfriend. Even if I feel like a stranger to Slade internally, I know that the love and connection is still there.

I guess John knew that I had the power of preventing them to leave each other. That is probably why he brought me here on this mission.

"Tell him" I mouthed.

"Slade, I'm pregnant" her voice was shaky but her audible words managed to process in her boyfriend's head as his expression changed completely.

His eyes went really wide in shock and I gave him a look. If he is going to freak out, he will ruin Reese's confidence of confiding the news go him. Slade needs to get his act together. He examined me, understanding me with the gesture of his nod. My father returned to his nervous girlfriend and grinned at her.

Reese sighed in relief and exchanged a smile in return.

"We're going to have a baby!" he yelled, shooting up from his seat before running over to her. He kissed her, wrapping an arm around her while placing his free hand on her cheek. She responded quickly, pulling him closer to her with both her arms.

I took my cue to leave, as this is their moment of affection. I snuck out of the coffee shop and decided to call John. He picked up on the third ring.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

"I helped Reese deliver the pregnancy news to Slade" I announced cheerfully.

"I knew you could do it!" John admitted. I can identify the happy edge to his voice.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I'll tell you later. I'm going to pick you up. Give me about five minutes" he said and hung up.


	8. A Story In Disguise

John's car pulled over by the curb, waving me over with his hands. Smiling in relief, I approached him in front of his window. He rolled his window down and grinned at me. He has no idea of the list of questions in my head. If I had it my way, he would be spending all night answering all my questions and explaining about my location here.

"So I take it that everything went well?" he asked, smirking.

"I'd like to think so" I responded.

"Get in the car, I think you need rest" John said, gesturing for me and patting the empty passenger's seat beside him.

I agreed and made my way around his car. As I opened the door to the passenger's seat, the door to the coffee shop opened and out came Slade and Reese—hand in hand. Both persons widened their eyes in pleasant surprise at the sight of the musician in the car. Reese was the first one to squeal and approach John in his car.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" she exclaimed, obviously in a better mood than before.

"I'm actually here to—" John trailed off, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes.

Reese followed his gaze, eyeing me with the silliest grin I've ever seen anyone make. I stood in front of the open car door awkwardly and blushed when that silly grin turned into a suggestive smile.

"Okay, I see that you guys are _really_ busy. We will leave you to it" Reese winked at John, backing up away from his car.

Slade appeared beside his girlfriend, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. I gazed at him, still admiring the fact that he is indeed my father—despite the fact that he isn't what I expected him to be. His dark brown hair blew against the wind, flying upwards away from blocking his forehead and assisting him of messing up his brunette locks even more.

"Okay, no one is telling me anything. All I want to know is, who the _hell_ is she?" he pointed at me impolitely, as if he had something against me.

I stared at him, so unsure of what to say to him. His gaze on me hardened as he glanced from his girlfriend to John. None of the two spoke, deciding to let me speak for myself. It seems like they don't know me as much. If they knew me at all, they would know that I do not open my mouth in situations like this.

"S-she is my…" John trailed off, returning his gaze on me.

I spluttered out a random syllable, deciding to enter his passenger seat to kill off the awkwardness that formed between the four of us. Slade's expectant eyebrows rose and I can see him tapping his foot on the pavement ground in annoyance. God, he is such an asshole.

"Girlfriend? Wife?" Reese suggested, making suppositions out of the randomness of her head.

I grimaced at the thought and John spoke up immediately.

"Married, Reese? Right, my friend forgot that I am barely under the legal drinking age and definitely not ready for marriage"

"Well, how do you explain the fact that her full name is Adelaide Morris Callaghan?" my beautiful blonde mother challenged, folding both arms across her chest.

Slade snapped out of his trance of impatience and decided to look on in the conversation. He looked at me with his eyebrows raised, forcing me to look away immediately. I hear him chuckle from a distance.

John turned to me, raising his eyebrows in the same manner as Slade. His lips curved up in a smirk of amusement before returning his attention to Reese.

"It's merely a coincidence? She is Adelaide Morris Callaghan and I'm John _O_'Callaghan, I say it's a coincidence"

Reese nodded in realization, smiling and shaking her head. She glanced up at Slade to have him smile and play with her strands of blonde hair. He then caressed her face with his hand.

"So Adie, tell me about yourself" Reese finally said, looking at me pleasantly.

"I'm sixteen" was all I managed to utter out in my moment of awkwardness.

"You're only sixteen? Where are your parents?" my parents are in my presence, in all their young and ignorant glory. My dad is too busy being an asshole to notice the resemblance between Reese and yours truly.

Looking at John, I decided to make up a story.

"I ran away from home. Somehow, I ended up here with John" I explained, smiling at John as he shot me a look of approval.

I think this whole creating-a-new-identity concept might work out better than I thought. It is far more interesting than my previous life in the _normal_ time period.

"Well you can stay with us if you'd like" she offered, only to gain a glare from Slade. The blonde ignored her boyfriend and continued to smile brightly at me.

"But you just met me, how could you trust me so much to stay with you?" I spluttered pathetically.

"Because I have this weird feeling that I've known you for all my life. I feel like we are family or like a family. Adelaide, I know our friendship will go far" Reese expressed, looking at me genuinely.

I stared at her, not knowing how to respond to that. I don't even know how I should be feeling now. She sensed this connection we have already but she is clueless that I've been missing this _family_ connection for the sixteen years of my life. I don't even know what to do to convince her to be a better mother for the child currently inside her stomach.

As if god sensed my discomfort, Slade's phone blared out in the quiet outside atmosphere. He shot his girlfriend an apologetic look before answering the phone.

"Stefan, what are you bothering me on about?"

I directed my attention to my father at the mention of my uncle's name. A heavy thought landed in my head at the thought of my father's twin. I want to believe that I will feel comfortable with him in _this_ world but I know it is unlikely to happen. He is Slade's twin, so the connection, or lake of connection would be apparent at first confrontation.

"Okay, we'll be there soon. Quit your bitching, man" Slade muttered before hanging up the phone.

He turned to Reese, who looked at him expectantly.

"Someone's got their panties in a bunch" he mumbled to her.

"What's up with Stefan?" she asked him.

"He is still waiting on us to show up"

"Then we must not keep him waiting, shall we?" Reese smiled at her boyfriend.

He returned the facial expression.

"I will see you guys around some other time. Adelaide, thanks for everything, if it weren't for you…" Reese trailed off, glancing at Slade from the corner of her eyes.

He seems to be busy checking his text messages.

After the two left, hand in hand, John pulled away from the coffee shop and I discovered that it is my opportunity to ask him questions.

"John, can I ask you a few questions?" I asked.

"Go ahead" he murmured with his eyes remaining on the road.

"Where are we going?" I started, glancing out the window at the unfamiliar landscape.

"To my home" he replied.

"Where are we?"

"California, duh"

"How old are you?" I couldn't help but ask. Curiosity killed the cat.

Ever since I spotted his performance in the coffee shop, I've been wondering about his age. He looked young enough to be a teenager, yet he carried himself maturely, easily can be assumed to be an adult.

"Twenty-two" he answered.

"Wow sexy" I blurted out, immediately regretting it.

In my defense, however, twenty-two is an attractive age. Girls my age fall head over heels for guys who are still young and able to buy them alcohol—not that I drink, anyways. But I don't feel like I am comfortable enough to throw casual, playful comments at John.

"Why, thank you" he chuckled, finding this more amusing than I would have liked.

I moved onto my next question.

"Why am I here exactly?" "

"You are here to change the fate of your parents, why else?" he questioned, looking away from the road for a millisecond.

"Why do I have to do this? You could easily go back in time and fix everything since you can already predict what happens" I looked out the window then back at him.

"I can't because I don't have the power you have as I've been trying to figure out for so many years. Your mom was so upset. She'd call me every night and cry because she regrets ever leaving you and your dad. She refused to come back" he stopped talking to let me take the information in.

I leaned back on the leather seat of his car and turned back to the window. The sky is darkening from the completion of the afternoon.

"Why won't she come back?" I asked.

"She promised your dad that she wouldn't. There was nothing anyone could do about it. I tried to go back and study the possibilities of changing the past. I was about to give up but I came to a realization that the possibilities falls into your hands. You are the solution" he said.

I looked at him dumbly.

"How am I the solution?"

"You are the person who ties the bond between Slade and Reese. You are their daughter and you're the only living being they ever shared together. You have the power to bring them back together and prevent them of their possible mistakes" he explained.

"So what do I have to do?" I asked.

"You have to pretend that you are someone else. Slade is not your father and Reese is not your mother. That is the first rule you have to follow in order to live in this world. You will moderate them to make sure they don't screw each other over"

"I'll screw it up" there is no way all the responsibilities of my parents' relationship falls on me. I am only a single ignorant girl, so capable of mistakes, so easily inclined to giving in due to discomfort. I cannot be depended on to make miracles happen and to fix errors. John has to be joking.

"Adelaide, you are doing great so far. Believe in yourself. Today is an example of your accomplishment. There is more to follow this very day, but I promise you, as long as you take it one day at a time, you would be fine; we would be fine" he said genuinely.

The way he said it brought some comfort into me. He talked as if he already committed himself to standing alongside me to make this work. He already made the clarification that I wouldn't be doing this alone. His comment made me feel that if I screw up, he will still be beside me to patch things up. For that, I am grateful.

"What did I do anyways? What did I accomplish, exactly?" I asked.

He cleared his throat before answering.

"In reality before this, she never told your dad until it started to show. He got pretty angry over that. It's not the fact that she's pregnant but it's the fact that she didn't trust him enough to tell him. So that explains why I set you up to emerge into _this_ particular day" he grinned at me and I smiled back.

After a moment of comfortable silence, he turned to me with the cockiest smirk on his face. I raised my eyebrows and waited for him to speak.

"By the way, Adelaide Morris Callaghan, how the hell did you come up with that?"

"It happened in a spur of moment" I explained.

"Oops I stole your name" I added, sticking my tongue out at him.

"You're so childish" he shook his head.

"I'm still sixteen" I defended.

"Well it feels good to be young again" he said, pulling over at a parking lot of his apartment building.


	9. Different Kind Of Magic

John opened the door to the room he sacrificed for my arrival, gesturing for me to enter. I chuckled at his urge to becoming a gentleman and walked in. If I were to be completely honest, the guest room isn't really the biggest room I've been in. I'm usually not that picky for rooms so it didn't matter that much anyways.

I walked over to the queen size bed—already made with comfy white sheets. The fabric and the feathers inside felt so fluffy against my hands, encouraging me to fantasize about my beautiful slumber tonight. Two pillows lay side by side at the head of the bed. As touched them, I learned that one was fluffily soft while the other one was hard like a sack of bunched up sand. I figured that John decided to let me choose my pick with the diversity he provided.

"When did you get all this preparation done?" I asked, turning to his casual figure by the door frame. His back leaned against it with both arms folded across his chest.

"While you were gone I had these things taken care of" he smirked at me.

I wandered around the room and opened the closet at the right side of the room. Unfortunately, I found it empty. John noticed, since he spoke up—uttering out an excuse about lacking knowledge of my preferred attire. I only laughed at him because none of us expected to be inside this scenario where we have to worry about clothing, or lack of.

"Well, if I had it my way, you'd be better off naked" he said, chuckling to himself.

I froze at his comment, completely unmoving with my feet planted on the floor ahead the closet. My posture completely went stiff and no part of my body dared to even make a single movement. What was he implying with the comment? The comment he just made, that was very perverted of him to even think about. Maybe I am just too used to John being mature and 39.

"Oh, I remember how much fun I used to have making girls uncomfortable with my remarks" John laughed and turned to leave the room.

"Thanks again, for everything" I managed to mutter out, despite the state of shock that I remained in from his perverted remark.

"No problem Adelaide" he turned and winked at me. A smile appeared on my face as he left the room.

I refuse to sleep in the same clothes I wear out the house. It is most comfortable in my sleep when the clothing is fresh and just as clean as the bed. I am so used to the habit of being polish-clean that any other habits in the world would take time and effort to fall back on. The other alternative to nourish my urge for a change of my sleeping attire is to borrow some clothes from John. Borrow his clothes just for tonight, anyways.

I walked into the bathroom beside the guest room. It is a bummer that I would be sharing a bathroom with John but beggars cannot be choosers. However, when I opened the door I jumped back in shock, overwhelmed by the moment of privacy I just ruined.

"Oops sorry" John is in there, washing his hands—shirtless. Why would he need to be shirtless to wash his hands? I've never washed my hands shirtless. When I use the bathroom, I actually keep my clothing on. My face began heating up in a blush as his smirk widened.

"It's fine. More than fine actually" he winked at me with a suggestive tint to his voice. I did not know that John is such a flirt. Okay, I did not know that John _was_ a flirt. As a 39 year old, it would be unlikely for him to be flirting with an underage minor.

Before I closed the door to separate our distance, his hand blocked my mission as he exited his bathroom.

"Are you going to shower?" he asked, smiling.

"Yeah if you let me borrow some clothes" I said, giving him a small crooked grin.

"If I give you clothes, can I watch you shower?"

My eyes widened, and I feel blood boiling my face in embarrassment. I feel so uncomfortable and awkward when John makes these types of comments. At first, I thought I would be comfortable being and living with him. Instead, his sexually suggested comments are destined to corrupt my virgin mind.

"Why are young people such assholes?" I muttered under my breath as I turned from him.

"You _really_ met your dad, didn't you?" I hear him chuckle from beside me.

"He's a nimrod" I mumbled and approached the living room. He followed me with heavy footsteps.

His living room is small but gives off a very roomy atmosphere. It gives off the feeling of comfort and home. The dark colored sofas begged for me to rest myself on them, promising me a lifetime of relaxation. When I sat down on the loveseat, John plopped down on the seat beside me.

Without saying anything, he lazily reached for the _faraway_ remote with his sock-clad foot and fished it over to his hand. I grimaced and watched as he attempted to hold possession of the remote with his hand. After he pulled the controller out of the grasp of his possibly smelly foot, he clicked the TV on.

The sound of the audience cheering filled the room, a male host's voice accompanying the enthusiastic reactions from the background.

John turned to me.

"What kind of shows do you like watching?"

"Is American Idol on right now?" I asked, racking my brains for knowledge of the time period in accompany to the airing of the show. I've never seen the show before but I do enjoy some singers who gained their fame by making appearance on the said show.

John looked at his digital clock that read 8:21.

"Yeah it should be on Fox now" he changed the channel. The previous host suddenly transformed into a younger man, also clutching onto a microphone. But unlike the host, he is belting out a country-inspired song while looking into the crowd passionately.

"What season is this?" I wondered aloud. He shrugged, just as dumb and stupid I assumed him to be.

I am merely curious because I wasn't around when American Idol was playing. I particularly like Adam Lambert since he is such a talented singer with such a promising rest of his life. He has been successful since his departure from American Idol. To this day, _my_ days, he is still loved by his consumers and the media.

"Was this the season with Jordan Sparks?" I asked.

"How the hell would I know?" John scoffed, placing his _smelly_ feet on the coffee table ahead of us.

"I was just curious" I mumbled absentmindedly.

I didn't really pay attention to the judges' comments that followed the closing of the country singer's song. I didn't acknowledge the excitement from the audience who cheered tirelessly for him. Somehow, the show did not grab my interest as I thought it would be when I wondered about the show.

John shared my opinion, or at least somewhere along those lines because he spoke up.

"This show is kind of boring, can we change the channel?" it was as if he is begging me to give him permission.

"This is your house, the remote is yours" I shrugged. He did a little dance and changed the channel to something random.

However, I have something else in mind, other than watch purposeless hours of television.

"John, I still have a lot of things to ask you"

He turned from the television and stared at me with his gorgeous looking eyes. To this day, I never imagined it possible for anyone to have a blended mixture of two extraordinary colors for their eyes. The brown and hazel combined in effort to add more positive qualities to this extremely attractive man.

"I don't know why but I feel like I have so much to ask" I mumbled.

I finally brought myself to look away from his mesmerizing eyes. I had to remember that he is 23 years older than me in reality and the age gap is pretty serious. In retrospect, I haven't even lived 23 years of my life, let alone think attractively of a guy who held that many years over me.

It was as if I considered the idea of finding myself gawking at my father. Everything about it feels wrong.

"What if I, for a better, more effective use of term, _fuck_ everything up?" I asked, feeling the previous uncertainty sink into me again.

If I keep in mind that John will assist me whenever needed, I would be remotely better. But when I think about it again, the horror returns.

"Adelaide" he shook his head, "you need to stop worrying. You are just like your mom"

He laughed at the last part.

We both sat in silence for a few minutes before I spoke up.

"So tell me about the magic box"

He smiled at me and then rubbed his chin.

"Well only I have it. I use it when I'm in a time of need. I can set it up to whenever time I want and I can arrive to the designated location by touching the light inside the box" he explained, "No one can know about it okay?"

"I won't say anything" I murmured.

"Good"

"So is this the only box in the world?" I resumed to nourishing my curiosity.

He removed his _smelly_ legs from the coffee table and placed them both on my lap. I grimaced and made sure he sensed my disapproval for his feet to mark its territory on my thighs. Laughing, he disregarded my silent complaints and continued on.

"Yes, this is the only Pandora box in the world. You heard of the Greek mythology right?"

"Yeah, something I've never really thought about. I remember something about Pandora opening the box out of anxiety and anticipation—all the bad things flew in the world so that's why we all have issues in our lives, that's why life isn't perfect" I explained, partially thinking about the sixteen years without Reese there as my mother figure and the emptiness inside my heart that accompanied it.

"You are absolutely correct, but this box, it is a different creation—it's functions, I mean. It is the same box but a _different_ kind of magic was conjured into this"

"How did you get it?" I asked.

"One day I was just walking down the street to attend to a meeting with your mom at the coffee shop. On my way there, I saw a man. He was sitting in the corner on the floor, homeless and coughing out blood—well I assumed he was homeless. Let's just say I did a good deed for the day and comforted him. I felt bad for him and thought a pat in the back would brighten up his day. Don't even question my philosophy" he chuckled at me when my lips formed into a taunting smile.

I didn't say anything and simply let him continue.

"I removed my hoodie and used it to wipe blood off his face and his body. The hoodie was one I enjoyed very much but a man is in need of help. He thanked me and told me I was a nice young lad. I let him stay here when he asked for shelter" he gestured toward our surroundings, referring to this apartment complex.

"After the third day, he said he has to leave. I told him he could stay as long as he desired but he said he didn't need to anymore. He told me to keep the box and explained everything. That's how I got it"

I am so mesmerized by this story of his. Everything seems unreal in his explanation. I can't believe magic could exist like that, or existed _at all_. But in my defense, I was never a superstitious person –so I wouldn't know if anything existed.

"What you did for the guy was nice" I looked at him sincerely, fighting myself to lose the urge to stare at his eyes.

"I wanted to help him because he looked like he needed somebody and no one was there for him. You know how you should treat others like you want to be treated? I want someone to have my back when I need them. I want someone to always be there for me no matter what, especially during my time of downfall. And this man was at his downfall so I helped him" John finished and I can't say that I am accustomed to his serious side, mostly applied after his previous slip of his perverted comments.

Even if he made me feel uncomfortable at the bathroom and his _smelly_ feet on my lap, I rather be by his side over anything else at a moment like this. When John is so humble and modest about the human natures of life, this is when I want to be around him—and even get close to him. It is a moment like this when I noticed that he is a man with a big heart.

I am already aware that John has enough room in his heart to love himself—so confident in his flirtatious manner—but he still leaves plenty of room for everyone else. He will always take in the ones who need the assistance most and do everything in his power to help them rediscover their strength. That is why I am here.

John isn't just doing this for me. He is doing this for my mother, my father—my whole threesome family.

"John, you're a very nice guy. And I want to be that person who has your back because you deserve to have your back covered. I'm sure you have a lot of friends who would give their right arms for you, but what you do for me and for everyone else, you deserve all the support"

"Just to let you know, Reese is left-handed so even if she gave her right arm off, she wouldn't _really_ suffer a loss" John chirped, completely wrecking the sincerity I mustered up for him to feel.

I stared at him in disbelief and didn't even laugh at his sense of humor. There goes my trusty awkward personality. I almost forgot that I have issues handling conversations with other human beings. In a playful conversation, I cannot find the energy in me to laugh along.

John sensed my discomfort because he frowned at me apologetically.

"Hey thanks" he pulled me into a hug.

I feel a bit awkward just hugging him but I didn't protest because I secretly love the warmth his embrace passed off. In this foreign world of ancient-history—seventeen years back, I am guaranteed to be stuck here all alone helplessly. His hugs reassure me that we will fight our mission together; we will reunite my family together.

But nonetheless, I loved being in his embrace. I even inwardly groaned when he released me.


End file.
